


lieu et heure.

by akechi



Category: Persona 5
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Begging, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Consensual Sex, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Bondage, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 07:48:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14374212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akechi/pseuds/akechi
Summary: There’s a time and place for everything, but this is certainlynotthe timeorplace to be messing around.





	lieu et heure.

**Author's Note:**

> set in the sixth palace, members floor safe room.

There’s a time and place for everything, but this is certainly _not_ the time _or_ place to be messing around.  
  
Not that they care, really.  
  
Crow lunges at Joker’s throat before the door can even close, pushing the phantom thief right against it with brute force. Joker chuckles amusingly, completely nonchalant about the fingers wrapped around his throat.  
  
“Not wasting time, are we?” Joker teases, moving a hand up to remove the red mask sitting on Crow’s face. He tosses it aside carelessly, the mask clattering somewhere across the floor.  
  
The detective— _thief on this side_ —merely leans forward, lips inches away from Joker’s, and whispers, “There isn’t any time _to_ waste.” He pushes his lips against the thief’s, giving him no time to respond in return.  
  
Joker groans against Crow’s mouth, the kiss _rough and wet and so sweet_ , and whines when the detective pulls away, causing Joker to chase his lips, which is all but fruitless. Joker’s lips are red and plump and Crow wants nothing more than to bruise them more; wants nothing more than to bite and tug at them until they bleed.  
  
Without a word, Crow rips away the mask from Joker’s face—it’s only fair, after all—and lets it fall onto the floor with a thud. He moves a few steps backward, his eyes never leaving Joker as he unbuttons his top.  
  
Akira smirks, slouching lazily against the door to the safe room as he watches the detective gracefully remove his clothes, buttons popping off one by one. “Y’know,” he purrs, eyes glistening brightly under the multicolored lights, “the others _totally_ know what’s going on.”  
  
Goro slows down momentarily in the midst of taking his shirt off, silence filling the room for a second before he speaks. “Are you referring to our affair?” he questions, raising an eyebrow as he shrugs his top off, his pants and boxer briefs following suit.  
  
Akira snorts, pushing himself off of the door and making his way to the detective. “I think after a few _dates_ , it’s considered more than just an _affair_ ,” he points out, wrapping his arms around Goro’s waist. “Don’t you think?”  
  
He notices Goro’s eyes moving down to his lips briefly before they’re back up. “Call it what you will,” he responds bitterly, tangling his arms around Joker’s neck, “I don’t care.” He leans forward, taking his lover’s lips between his teeth this time, tugging and biting and _sucking_ and he’s pulling off before it has even started. He moves down to mouth Akira’s neck, sucking at the fabric of his high collared top before ripping away at it, pulling the zipper down for better access. He licks his lips at the sight of bare flesh and digs his teeth right in, sucking until there’s clear evidence of their affair, colored somewhere between purple and red.  
  
It’s rough and animalistic _and_ _disgusting_ but neither of them mind. Instead, Akira merely tilts his head further back, allowing his lover to do as he pleases. Goro swirls his tongue around the bruise, tending to it before moving to the Adam’s apple. He slips a hand down through the opening of Akira’s shirt, pinching a nipple roughly. The thief moans, throat vibrating against Goro’s lips, his body jerking at the touch.  
  
Goro smirks against Akira’s skin, clearly pleased at the sound, and rolls his thumb over the nipple, showing little to no mercy. He coaxes Akira’s body, guiding him onto the table all the while never removing his lips or his hands off the thief.  
  
Goro abruptly pushes Akira down, forcing him to lie on the green table of the safe room, holding him down with a hand on his chest. “How long do you think it will be before your teammates come back?” he whispers, pulling the zipper on Akira’s top down until it’s completely undone.  
  
Akira raises an eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitching with the hint of a sly smirk. “Don’t act so innocent, Akechi—like you didn’t plan this. If you really cared about such things, you would’ve picked a much more secluded room,” he responds, rolling his eyes playfully. “But you didn’t.”  
  
Feigning annoyance, Goro rips away at Akira’s pants, pulling it down hastily along with his underwear. He’s got his fingers wrapped around Akira’s cock before the thief can even blink. “Oh, shut up,” Goro huffs. He leans over and grabs Akira by the face, forcing him to focus on him. “You would definitely get off to your friends catching us. The thought excites you, doesn’t it?” Akechi accuses, giving the cock in his hand a squeeze. “You’re so _sick_ , Joker.”  
  
Akira— _Joker_ —lets out a soft groan, eyes falling shut as Goro pumps his cock, teasingly slow.  
  
“Playing cards with the enemy behind your friends’ backs…” the detective muses, “You should be ashamed.” His eyes shine mischievously, orbs appearing bright red under the blinding lights.  
  
Akira merely smiles, reaching up to touch Goro’s bangs, a habit he has picked up from their various dates. He lures Goro on top of him, guiding him with a gentle touch. “You say that like you weren’t the one to seduce me first,” he retorts, “With your adorable big eyes and your dumb charisma.”  
  
He moves his fingers, running his thumb across Goro’s bottom lip, coaxing the two soft petals open. Goro instinctively runs his tongue over Akira’s thumb, his eyes fluttering closed, a tender look displayed on his face. Like this, the detective looks like a mere angel. But looks can be deceiving—as fate would have it, the devil was once an angel, too.  
  
“Turn around,” Joker—because, because this is _definitely_ Joker—orders, tracing his wet thumb down Akechi’s neck. “Be a good boy and put your mouth to good use.” His voice is a melodic whisper that sends shivers down Akechi’s spine.  
  
The detective nods in obedience, doing as he’s told without a word. He wraps his fingers around Akira’s cock, stroking it before taking him into his mouth. As soon as Goro wraps his lips around Akira, he feels a loud _slap_ against his right cheek, provoking an involuntary moan out of him, sending vibrations around the sex organ. Akira wraps one hand around Goro’s thigh, the other around his cock. Goro shudders under the touch, pushing his hips back against those hands.  
  
To make matters worse, it isn’t long before Goro feels a wet piece of flesh that he soons identifies as Akira’s tongue probing at his entrance. His eyes tightly fall shut, groaning against the dick in his mouth, his own throbbing in Akira’s hand.  
  
Akira grips Goro’s thigh, pushing his tongue further into the heat. It’s tight, but with a little probing, it doesn’t take him much time to push his way through.  
  
The only sounds filling the small space are the squelching noises, the muffled moans and groans, and Akira’s occasional smacks, followed by sweet words of praise in the form of gasps and mumbles. Akira feels his eyes rolling back into his head when Goro takes him into his throat and _really_ goes to town.  
  
“Shit,” he curses under his breath, digging his fingernails into Goro’s thighs, “Akechi — Akechi, stop or I’ll cum.”  
  
Unsurprisingly, the begging only riles Goro up even more, determined to disobey his lover’s words. He keeps on sucking and sucking and _sucking_ until Akira’s a begging, whining mess, whispering _please_ and _I’m so close_ and _you’re so good_ and at this point, the thief has long but stopped thinking about pulling Goro off, his own release the only thing flooding his thoughts.  
  
“Fuck,” he whimpers breathlessly. He’s certain at this point he’s bruised Goro’s thighs with how hard his fingernails are dug into the flesh, but Goro doesn’t seem to mind at all, simply remaining in the same position that they started.  
  
He feels heat pooling in his stomach, feels his inside clenching and squirming, and just when he thinks he’s going to cum, he feels the wet sensation pulling away, leaving him with nothing but the coldness of the air surrounding his cock.  
  
When he comes to his senses, the blur in his vision clearing up and his grip around Goro’s thighs loosening, Akira sighs softly. “You’re an asshole, you know that?” he says, the words breaking the— _save for the sounds of breathing_ —silence. He isn’t really upset because this isn’t the first time Goro has pulled a stunt like this. Goro seems to get off on denying Akira’s orgasm, seeing how he’s done this two times this week _alone_.  
  
“I know,” Goro replies lightly, and even though his face isn’t within Akira’s view, the phantom thief can tell he’s smiling. _That prick._ __  
__  
“Hm, it’s fine,” Akira muses, but, looking over his shoulder, Goro can tell his words contrasted his thoughts. It’s _so not fine_.  
  
Goro feels like he’s being plotted against.  
  
“It’s okay,” he reassures, smirking as he seductively crawls off of his lover. Akira sits up, following Goro with his eyes. “I’ll make it up to you.”  
  
Akira feels breathless just hearing those words, having to force himself to retain his composure. “Fine,” he says, feigning irritation.  “What’ll you do to make it up to me?”  
  
“Absolutely anything you want,” the detective responds, his voice melodic and soft, a tone completely inappropriate for the current situation.  
  
“Is that so?” Akira muses, suddenly dawned with an idea. He hops off of the table, a mischievous smile displayed on his—as Akechi would describe it— _perfect_ face.  
  
“Of course,” Goro replies, despite the chill running down his spine. He watches as Akira moves from the table to where Goro’s clothes lie closely.  
  
Akira picks up the golden belt with the _A_ etched on it before moving back to the table. “Come here and turn around,” he orders, smugness dripping from his voice.  
  
Goro complies, clumsily walking over to the table and turning around as he was told. From their previous sessions, Goro has a few guesses as to what he should expect, but roughly being pushed down against table, bent over, is not one of them. He doesn’t have much time to react, the pleasure and pain of the sudden shove sending shudders down to his cock. He feels what he predicts to be his belt being wrapped around his wrists, tied so tightly that he thinks— _hopes_ —it’ll leave marks. He hears the sound of ruffling, and then darkness overtakes his vision. He feels soft fabric against his cheekbones—a scarf?—but he doesn’t care enough to deduce the item.  
  
With Akira so close behind him, nearly pressed up against him, Goro can feel his hard cock brush over his bare ass. The mere touch has him bucking his hips back, desperate to feel more, but Akira merely moves away, provoking a whine out of Goro. Akira merely grips his hips, and, if Goro wasn’t blindfolded, he’s sure he’d see that smug smirk that Joker wears.  
  
“We’re playing it by _my_ rules,” Akira reminds him, leaning over until his chest is pressed against Goro’s back. “Tonight, you’re _my_ bitch. Remember that.”  
  
Akira rises, his gloved fingers dancing across Goro’s skin, tracing his spine down to the dip in his back. Akira encircles the two fingers around his skin, touches slow and featherlike. He feels Goro squirming beneath him, the sight more satisfying than it should be.  
  
“Tell me what you want,” Akira purrs. “And I’ll decide if I wanna give it to you.”  
  
Goro feels shame bubbling in his belly, shame at how much he’s enjoying this and shameful of how hard his dick is. Blood boils in his face and down his neck, and he feels as if he’s been lit on fire. He parts his lips, swipes his tongue out to dampen the parted flesh, breathing heavily against the game table. The words are there right on the tip of his tongue, begging to free themselves, but his dignity and pride won’t let him execute them.  
  
“Oh, fuck you,” Goro spits out, his tone not nearly as confident as he wants it to sound.  
  
He can’t see Akira’s face, can’t tell what the phantom thief is thinking, but he feels a sudden slap against one cheek, feels it again on the opposing one. He has to bite his bottom lip to keep the moan from escaping his lips.  
  
Goro grits his teeth when he feels the third hit, shuts his eyes closed when he feels the fourth, and the fifth, sixth, and seventh, the impact only adding onto his painfully hard cock. “C’mon,” he chokes out, the material of the green game table tickling his cheek, drool dripping out of the corner of his lips as he pants in desperation. “How long can you last? Why don’t you just put it in? I’m certain it’s insufferable by now,” Goro says, and, despite the situation, he forces himself to smirk.  
  
Akira’s eyebrows twitch before he bursts out into laughter. “If I really wanted to, I could just jerk myself off to your pretty little ass. So, aren’t you the one in trouble?” He smirks, leaning over until his lips are pressed against Goro’s shoulder blades. “C’mon, _honey_ , just say the words.”  
  
Goro considers, for a second, but pushes that thought aside, valuing his pride more than an orgasm. “Make me,” he bites back instead, pushing a leg backwards between Joker’s legs, brushing the hard cock with the end of his foot. “C’mon, make me beg.”  
  
Akira restrains a groan, trying and failing to keep his composure. Every inch of his body is telling him to _fuck it,_ but the part of his brain that’s still functioning reminds him he’s in control.  
  
The corner of his lips quirk up before he pulls a hand away, the other still holding Goro down. He rummages through his pockets one-handedly in the search for lubricant. Once finding it, Akira briefly releases Goro to squeeze some lube onto his gloved hand, spreads it all over his fingers, and, as uncomfortable as it feels with the glove and all, it’s worth it.  
  
Akira presses his index finger against Goro’s entrance, savors the way Goro pushes back, using the surface of the table to muffle his noises. Considering just _how much_ the two fuck, it doesn’t take much effort to shove his finger right in.  
  
Goro holds out as best as he can, but, Akira knows, it won’t last much longer now. He pulls his index finger out only to push it right back in, making Goro buck his hips uncontrollably.  
  
Despite his position, shamelessly bent over, legs shaking, the detective merely laughs hollowly. “Is that all?” he taunts shakily, “At this rate, the others will _really_ question our whereabouts.”  
  
Akira responds with a laugh, pushes a second finger in just as easily as the first. “It’s cute how you’re still trying to keep up this tough guy act,” he states, brushing Goro’s hair away to expose the back of his neck. He licks his lips, lust clouding his vision, and takes the skin between his teeth.  
  
Goro holds his breath, shuddering under Akira, wanting, needing, wishing for the thief to just _give_ _in_ —to just fuck him senseless. The fingers pushing in and out, hitting the walls inside him aren’t nearly enough. He needs more than that. More. More. _More._ __  
__  
It’s almost unbearable at this point. Goro can’t manage anything more than a moan or a yelp—can’t manage a single word through the overwhelming feeling of those fingers breaking him apart.  
  
“F—Akira…” he chokes out breathlessly, feeling as though if he waits another minute, he’ll cry. “Akira. Akira. Akira,” he repeats.  
  
“Yes, sweetheart?” Akira responds against Goro’s skin, kissing and licking the bruised flesh.  
  
“Please…” Goro whimpers, pushing back onto Akira’s fingers. “Please, please, _please._ ”  
  
“What do you want, baby?” Akira mumbles all too sweetly. “Tell me what you want.”  
  
Silence. A breath, a sob, and then Goro breaks.  
  
“Fuck me. _Pleasejustfuckme_. Do it. Get in me. Please. I need you,” he pleads, feeling his eyes welling up with tears. He’s ashamed of his defeat, but, at this point, all he needs is to feel that cock pumping into him, fucking him raw. “Please. Please. Please. Fuck me. Make me yours, please. Fuck me. Fill me up,” he barely stops to breathe in between his words.  
  
“Good boy,” Akira praises, kissing Goro’s shoulder. He pulls his fingers out, hears the detective whine at the loss, and lubes up his cock. “I’m going to fill you up, gonna make you walk around with my cum dripping right out of you,” he promises, lining himself up with Goro’s entrance. “You ready?”  
  
Goro nods wordlessly, pushing his hips backward eagerly.  
  
Akira grips his hips, pushing himself into the heat effortlessly. It doesn’t take him long to fully bury himself into his lover, the wet warmth greeting him invitingly. “You feel so good, baby,” he whispers, pulling out slowly and pushing back in just as gently. He does this a few times before picking up the speed.  
  
It doesn’t take long for the two to start moving rhythmically, Goro pushing back to meet Akira’s thrusts, the noises from the pair coming out obscene and shameless. The room fills itself with the sounds of skin slapping, words of pleasure conveyed as moans and groans. After a few more hard thrusts, Akira pulls away.  
  
“Turn over,” he commands, voice gentle and far too sweet, and Goro complies as he turns around, allowing the thief to guide him onto the table. Akira takes this time to pull off the blindfold, wanting to see those reddish-brown eyes. He smiles tenderly as he brushes Goro’s hair out of the way.  
  
Like this, Goro feels overexposed. His legs are spread apart, loosely wrapped around Akira’s waist. Akira kisses Goro’s forehead, moves down to kiss his nose before pulling away. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispers, moving his hands up to take Goro’s nipples between his fingers.  
  
Akira pushes himself back in, thrusting slowly before they go back to their previous flow. Goro can’t help but cry out as Akira rolls his nipples roughly, pushing and pinching simultaneously alongside his thrusts. His hand instinctively moves down, taking his own cock into his hand, pumping it hard to match Akira’s thrusts.  
  
“Fuck,” Akira whispers, leaning over to press his forehead against his lover’s. “I’m close.”  
  
“Me too,” Goro responds breathlessly, pushing up to press a kiss against Akira’s face. “Keep fucking me, darling,” he pleads, squeezing his cock to slow down his climax.  
  
Akira obeys, moving his hands down to Goro’s hips as he angles himself. Goro takes a nipple into his other hand, playing with himself as Akira thrusts deeply into him. His noises are obscene, and he wonders if they can be heard from the outside. The thought only turns him on.  
  
Their eyes never leave each other as the two move like animals, fucking against each other hard and desperately, all but chasing their orgasms.  
  
“I’m so close,” Goro whispers, releasing his nipple to touch Akira’s neck. His other hand continues to stroke his dick in time with Akira’s thrusts. He pulls the phantom thief down, taking his lips between his own, the kiss gentle and sweet in contrast to their movements. The two pull away, eyes still locked, and Akira says it first.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
Goro feels himself lose it then, his stomach coiling as he cums all over his chest, a soft moan escaping his lips. Akira follows suit, spilling inside with a few thrusts, groaning as he buries his head into the nape of Goro’s neck.  
  
The two stay that way for a while before Akira pulls out. Goro feels cum leaking out of his hole, the sensation making him shudder. He takes the scarf that he was blindfold with and wipes his chest clean before moving to wipe the fluid off his ass. He sits up, watches as Akira—Joker—fixes himself up. “You really want me to walk out of here with your sperm dripping down my legs?” Goro questions, snorting at the look Akira returns.  
  
“Absolutely.”  
  
“You’re disgusting.”  
  
Goro hops off of the table, legs wobbling as he walks over to his pile of clothes. He starts to put them back on right as the door to the safe room busts open. Goro feels his face paling as he moves behind Joker to cover himself.  
  
Joker merely watches as the rest of the group eyes between him and the detective rushing to dress himself behind him.  
  
“Okay, that’ll be fifty bucks,” Panther perks up, reaching her hand out to Skull proudly. Skull groans, reaching into his pocket in defeat, mumbling _dammit_ under his breath.  
  
The others merely sigh, either whistling and pretending nothing is out of the ordinary, or awkwardly trying to avoid catching the pair’s eyes. Joker smirks as he eyes Crow over his shoulder. “Told you they totally knew.”  
  
Crow glares at the thief as he runs his hand through his hair in an attempt to comb it out. He’s the first to leave the room, wanting to never ever interact with another human again, and Akira follows suit. Before he can leave, Skull grabs Joker by the arm, whispering, “Really, dude? Him? Of all people?”  
  
Joker shrugs, just offering him a smirk before catching up with Crow.  
  
“I don’t get it,” Skull says, watching the two.  
  
“It’s truly a mystery,” Panther agrees.  
  
And it really is.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!


End file.
